


Suspenders

by CasCase



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cas and Meg are BFFs, Costume Party, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasCase/pseuds/CasCase
Summary: “You’re going to this party, Clarence, so either come out now or I’m going to drag you out.”Cas sighed, adjusting his appearance in the mirror one more time before ducking out of Meg’s bathroom. He opened his hands at his hips and waved them at her.“Ta-da,” he droned. Meg rolled her eyes and tugged him closer by his lapels.“Oh, Clarence, you know your enthusiasm hits me right in the gooey center.”





	Suspenders

**Author's Note:**

> This fluffy ficlet brought to you by the old headshot from his early acting days that Misha posted to his website.

“You’re going to this party, Clarence, so either come out now or I’m going to drag you out.”  


              Cas sighed, adjusting his appearance in the mirror one more time before ducking out of Meg’s bathroom. He opened his hands at his hips and waved them at her.  


              “Ta-da,” he droned. Meg rolled her eyes and tugged him closer by his lapels.  


              “Oh, Clarence, you know your enthusiasm hits me right in the gooey center.” She brushed his shoulders of non-existent dust, then planted a quick peck on his lips. Cas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  


              “Gross, Meg, lipstick,” he said. She raised an eyebrow. “That color doesn’t match my outfit.”  


              Meg grabbed him by the tie and walked him toward the door. “C’mon Angel, enough stalling.”  


              Cas managed to grab his coat as she pulled him out of their apartment door. He shrugged the trench-coat on over his costume as they headed down the stairs and into Meg’s beat-up old Camry that smelled like rancid take-out and cigarettes.  


              Halloween was quite possibly Cas’s least favorite holiday, but Meg loved it, and since Cas loved Meg he was indulging her with a night out. Their frequent haunt, The Roadhouse (which they both liked for its low student-to-townie ratio), was throwing its annual Halloween party with prizes to the best costumes of the night. Meg had gone all-out, planning both of their outfits months in advance. They had three years’ worth of award-winning couple costumes to top, so Cas just let Meg pick. This year they’d gone with a Gatsby theme, so Meg was decked out in a gorgeous pink satin dress, deep v neckline in the front and back, with a fistful of long, dangling necklaces draping down her chest. Her dark hair was coiffed in delicate finger-waves and she wore a pearl band around her forehead. She looked gorgeous (though she wasn’t exactly Castiel’s type), which was more than could be said for Cas himself. He’d put on the oversized white button-down, slacks, tie, and suspenders she’d handed him without comment, brushing a little pomade into his hair to try to tame it. It was mostly covered by the ridiculous fedora Meg had patted onto his head as they turned into the Roadhouse’s parking lot.  


              The bar was crowded when they pulled up, just like Meg liked it. Music blared from the open door, and a thick-set bouncer in a flat-brimmed hat was checking ID’s at the door.  


              “Hey, Benny, how’s the crowd tonight?” Meg asked, fishing her ID out of her beaded handbag.  


              “Loud and dumb,” Benny said, tipping his hat at Meg as he waved her inside.  


              “Mmm, just how I like ‘em,” she said, winking her long false eyelashes at him. Benny shook his head and chuckled as he checked Cas’s ID.  


              “You keep her in check, brother,” he said, handing it back. It was Cas’s turn to wink, drawing a slight blush from the burly bouncer.  


              “Oh, she keeps _me_ in check,” Cas replied, moving into the bar.  


              There was a large press of bodies in the dimly-lit space, crowded around high-top tables and pressed up against the makeshift corral around the tiny dance floor. The music for a typical Roadhouse night tended toward Zeppelin and The Stones, but tonight some sort of new dance hits were playing over the speakers. Cas tracked Meg down near the bar, where she was completely in character sipping a martini.  


              “Vodka, really?” Cas asked, sliding up behind her.  


              “Please, Castiel, what do you take me for? It’s gin and vermouth, dummy.”  


              “Jack and Coke, please,” Cas said to the bartender. Meg rolled her eyes.  


              “What are you, new?” she asked. Cas shrugged.  


              “Judge my drink choices later,” Cas said. “It’s too crowded in here.”  


              “Aw, come on, sweet cheeks. Let’s get on the dance floor and win us a contest.”  


              He sipped his drink lightly as she pulled him forward onto the small dance space. Cas let her press up against him, holding both of their drinks aloft. The Roadhouse staff rarely enforced their “no drinks on the dance floor” rule, so Cas always watched Meg’s drinks to make sure some asshole didn’t get any ideas about messing with it. Tonight was difficult, though, as they moved in the packed crowd, and after a song or two they both finished their drinks to return the glassware to the bar. Meg wandered off with some ridiculously hot Freshman at some point between drinks two and three, so Cas scanned the room to find a table for the two of them. He spotted one near the corner, so he grabbed Meg’s martini and his own refill and turned to grab it before someone else could.  


              He turned back and slammed into someone directly behind him, spilling his entire drink down his front.  


              “Ah, shit!” he hissed as the cold liquid soaked through his shirt and seeped into the front of his slacks. “Dammit!”  


              “Oh, fuck, sorry!”  


              “Watch where you’re going, you stupid—” Cas looked up at the stranger he’d run into and immediately found himself tongue-tied. This guy was fucking _gorgeous_. He was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with an extremely low v-neck front, topped by an open black vest, and what looked like navy blue pants tucked into tall black boots. It was sexy, though kind of out-dated, and showed off a long, elegant neck that Cas briefly entertained the thought of licking. Cas’s tongue flicked out to lick his own lips, unbidden.  


              And this stranger wasn’t exactly unaffected, either. He tracked the movement of Cas’s tongue with his sharp green eyes.  


              “Uh, hey,” said the stranger, a small smile quirking the corner of his lips. “Sorry about the shirt.”  


              Oh, right. Cas had soda and alcohol soaking into his skin at the moment. “Um, it’s my roommate’s,” he managed. Gorgeous stranger cleared his throat.  


              “Oh, so, I guess I should apologize to him, then,” he said, smiling a little.  


              “No, it’s fine, she just dressed me tonight.”  


              “Oh,” said the stranger. “Okay. Well, sorry again.”  


              Cas blinked a little stupidly at the stranger, acutely aware of how uncomfortable his clothes were becoming. “You could meet her, if you want. Make it up to her, maybe?”  


              The stranger smiled, soft this time. “Well, I dunno . . . I’d kinda like to make it up to you, maybe?”  


              Cas swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Uh, sure,” he said.  


              “Awesome,” said the stranger. “I’m Dean, by the way.”  


              “Castiel, or, Cas—”  


              “Hey, Clarence!”  


              Meg sidled up to him, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. She turned and noticed Dean for the first time and her lip curled; Cas could swear she practically purred. “Who’s this Grade A hunk of grass-fed, huh?”  


              “Meg, this is Dean,” Cas said, nearly reluctantly. “Dean, Meg is my roommate.”  


              “Nice to meet you, Handsome,” Meg replied, extending a hand. Dean shook it graciously, smiling awkwardly as she held on just a little too long.  


              “Nice to meet you, too,” Dean said, finally extracting his hand from Meg’s grip. She wrapped an arm around Cas’s waist and took her drink from him. Cas noticed Dean’s eyes flick between the two of them before making eye contact with him again. “So who are you two supposed to be? Bonnie and Clyde?”  


              “Wrong decade, Freckles. We’re doing Gatsby.”  


              Cas’s heart skipped a little as Dean looked him up and down. “Yeah, I see it. Nice suspenders, by the way.” Cas’s over-warm cheeks flushed.  


              “Thank you. And you are . . .?”  


              Dean’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, right?” He held up some sort of toy gun and struck a rather dramatic pose. Cas continued to stare blankly, shaking his head. Dean threw his hands in the air. “I’m Han fucking Solo! _Star Wars_?” Cas shook his head again. Dean groaned. “Oh, man, how do you not know _Star Wars_?”  


              “Clarence here had a very sheltered childhood,” said Meg. “He hasn’t been introduced to all of the classics.”  


              “Man, that’s a shame! You should definitely look it up. _Star Wars_ is the best; Solo is a badass, but the new versions on the DVDs are sub-par. If you do watch, remember: Han shot first.”  


              He was grinning, and _god_ was he beautiful. Cas couldn’t help but return the enthusiastic smile, ignoring Meg’s knowing little chuckle as she looked up at him.  


              “Dean!”  


              Dean turned to the small figure rushing over, dressed in a strange, camouflage-painted cape with a brunette twisted up-do, still smiling.  


              “Hey, Charlie, come meet Cas—”  


              “They’re about to judge the couple’s competition. Can’t leave a general without her smuggler!”  


              With that, Charlie grabbed hold of Dean and tugged him toward the small stage in the corner where Ellen, the grouchy-natured bar owner, was setting up the microphone to announce the costume competition winners. Cas turned to look down at Meg, frowning at the smirk she gave him.  


              “What?” he demanded. She just tilted her head, continuing to smirk. “ _What_?”  


              “First, let’s go win a contest. Second, if you don’t get laid tonight, I will consider it a night out wasted.”  


              Cas rolled his eyes. Dean was really attractive, sure, but they’d hardly spoken and it was likely that Dean would forget they’d even met before he headed home tonight. Besides, Cas wasn’t doing the one-night-stand thing anymore since the disaster hookup that ended with getting thrown out of Mick’s apartment at four in the morning by Mick’s furious boyfriend.  


              Cas and Meg won the costume competition, as usual, but Dean and Charlie took second, so they shared the stage for a few moments, Dean’s grin wide and infectious. Cas found himself grinning back when they made eye contact, lingering just a bit too long.  


              The party wrapped up not long after the awards. Meg was swinging a high-heeled shoe around in one hand while the other was tucked into her purse (hopefully; she’d lost more than one shoe at the Roadhouse over the last few years), which was Cas’s signal that it was time to go. He’d had less to drink than Meg, so he fished her keys out of her purse and steered her toward the door. And definitely didn’t scan the dwindling crowd for Dean.  


              The night air was chilly, but Cas had had just enough to drink that it wasn’t too bad. He helped Meg toward the car and tried to quash the nagging beginnings of regret.  


              “Hey!”  


              Cas whirled around. Dean was jogging toward him, plodding to a stop with his hands in his pockets. Cas felt his heartbeat pick up just a little. Dean grinned sheepishly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.  


              “Look, we didn’t get to talk much, but . . . I was kinda wondering . . . _Star Wars_?”  


              “Huh?” asked Cas.  


              “I mean, I’ve got the whole thing on DVD at home, plus I can point out all the stuff that was better before Lucas fucked with it. And my couch is pretty comfy. I room with my brother, but he’s usually out on weekends studying or whatever little nerds like him do—”  


              “Says the guy with a _Star Wars_ obsession,” countered Cas.  


              “Dude, it’s not an _obsession_. Anyway, I mean . . . maybe Friday? Would that be cool?”  


              Cas squinted and tilted his head. “I’m not sure I’m following. Cool for what?”  


              “To hang out. You could come over, we could watch the movies, maybe do the whole thing if you’re up for it?”  


              “Aren’t there seven movies?” Cas asked. Dean shook his head.  


              “Man, you have so much to learn.” Dean moved a few steps toward him, grin turning sly and flirtatious. “Look, I think you’re really hot. And, I’m kinda trying to grow out of the random hookups thing, you know? So, I figure, I’m pretty interested, and maybe if we got to know each other . . .”  


              “We could fuck?”  


              Dean coughed. “I mean, maybe, but I meant I think you’re cool and we should hang out. With _Star Wars_. And maybe it’s a date?”  


              Cas watched him fidget uncomfortably for a moment, then took a step closer. “I think I might be okay with that.” Dean grinned again; Cas’s heart fluttered and he found himself smiling back. Dean was close enough to touch, now, and sure enough Cas felt Dean’s hands wrap around Cas’s suspenders. With a gentle tug, more of a suggestion than insistence, Dean pulled Cas closer.  


              “These are really fucking sexy, by the way,” Dean said, leaning in.  


              “I’ll have to thank Meg, then,” Cas said.  


              “Um, boys?”  


              Cas and Dean turned their heads to look over at Meg, who was standing with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised suggestively. She smirked. “No, no, you boys carry on. Just let me know if I need to call myself an Uber.”  


              “In a minute, Meg,” Cas said impatiently, then impulsively reached up to pull Dean’s face toward his own.  


              Dean let out a surprised little noise as Cas crashed their lips together, but quickly recovered, tightening his grip on Cas’s suspenders and pulling them flush against each other. Dean was clearly an expert kisser; Cas let himself drown in the feel of Dean’s plump lips moving against his. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, kissing in the Roadhouse parking lot, but the sound of Meg clearing her throat brought him back to his senses. He moved gently away from Dean, who chased his lips just slightly before resting their foreheads together.  


              “That was, uh . . .” Dean breathed. He cleared his throat. “I’ll see you Friday, then?”  


              Cas licked his lips, chasing the leftover taste of Dean, and didn’t miss how Dean’s eyes tracked the movement. “Phone,” Cas demanded. Dean fumbled for it in his pocket, handing it over for Cas to program his number into.  


              “I’m getting old, here, Clarence!” called Meg. Cas rolled his eyes.  


              “Why’s she call you Clarence, anyway?” Dean asked as he pocketed his phone.  


              “It’s a long story,” Cas said. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.”  


              With that, he turned and ushered Meg into the car. Friday suddenly felt a long way off.  


              Later, Cas had just finished scrubbing the pomade out of his hair in the shower and was climbing into bed when his phone lit up with a text.  


               >>> _Hey, Cas, it’s Dean. Wanted to make sure you got my number, too. Text me about Friday._  


              Cas plugged his phone in and turned off the light, smiling a little to himself. He was just about to nod off when he got another message.  


               >>> _Don’t forget to thank Meg for the suspenders for me._  


    Cas grinned into the darkness and thought maybe this year Halloween hadn’t been so bad after all.


End file.
